


Tagged

by Witchtomez



Series: Yoosung Week 2019 (SFW) [2]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Humor, MC is a bit of a goofy doof, Romance, Yoosung Kim week 2019, prompt: secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-10 18:56:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18666370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchtomez/pseuds/Witchtomez
Summary: Yoosung picks up an old hobby after his injury leaves him unable to stare at a computer screen at length--and then it becomes a sort of subconscious habit.





	Tagged

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     Yoosung hadn’t meant to make it a habit at first.

     But once his fingers got reacquainted with a needle and thread, what was meant to be a simple repair for an unraveled seam accidently ended up with an addition much like how an artist would pen their name alongside their creation.

     Except in place of flowing script, a rather chubby star made of matching black thread now sat at the side seam of his girlfriend’s skirt.

     Yoosung thought to explain the little flourish as though it was intentional—a technique to keep the seam from loosening again, which while true…was not a traditional use of cross-stitching. Well, not that he was aware of.

     Yet when he returned it sheepishly, there was no chance to explain himself as she immediately plucked it from his hands and disappeared into the bathroom to try it on; an excited cheer sounded from the down the hall before spritely footsteps brought her back into his arms to plant rapid fire kisses along his face, effectively taking priority over any thoughts he’d had. And then, like a whirlwind, she’d swept up her belongings and flew out the door with a rushed farewell in hopes of catching the bus to her next meeting.

     Once coherency was possible again he had thankfully landed on the couch, face stuck in a dreamy grin that only seemed to grow wider. It was only when his phone’s notification tone went off that he seemed to gather his wits.

 

<Just made the bus! Thanks so much for fixing my skirt, love! I don’t know what you did, but it feels like it definitely won’t tear again!>

_‘Oh…she hasn’t seen it yet?’_

     Just as he was about to tap in a reply, his inbox went off twice with a photo notification following.

 

<Wait>

<Is this a star?!>

     The image immediately heated his face, though Yoosung knew she hadn’t meant anything scandalous. It was one of her more dangerous qualities, not knowing how attractive she was—especially when adorably oblivious. In an attempt to get a decent view of the threading, the skirt was hiked halfway up her thigh and Yoosung had to take a deep breath while typing.

 

<Yes! But please, cutie! You’re in public, what if a pervert gives you trouble??>

     He was exaggerating the threat a bit, but he didn’t want to admit the root of his concern was a bit more childish and insecure in nature.  

     All at once, the tiny itch in his chest was dispelled in an instant:

<If that happens…I’ll just have to become even bigger trouble, won’t I?  ;) >

     Sighing in exasperation, he’d chuckled after sending one last plea for her to be careful and put his phone back on the table. It had been one of his rare free days where it was just him and Lisa, who had already decided to fill her day with sunbathing in the same sunbeam as it moved throughout the afternoon.

     Before, such a rarity would have guaranteed his locked position at his desk for days on end with minimal bathroom breaks and stockpiled junk food within arm’s reach at his computer. However, now he had goals to achieve and only half his vision, so Yoosung turned to examining his other domestic interests–partly to see what he was still capable of with his injury.

     The other part…well, what right did he have to think about ring shopping if he hadn’t yet proved he could handle any chore?

     So it came down to him, the small mending pile and Yoosung making a list of the color threads he would need to buy…

     …

     He came home with a handful of shiny embroidery thread spools, an embroidery guide, and a magnifying lamp.

     No rip, split seam or loose hem stood a chance.

* * *

 

     The next few weeks, as each garment was reintroduced to their daily rotation, Yoosung waited for the triumphant texts as another hidden embellishment was discovered and sometimes photographed for proof. The scavenger hunt became their private little game, and he was all too eager to soak up the praise for a job well done; the compliments upon his more advanced stitches filled his face with a flush of pride, reassuring him that he was adjusting well with his skewed perception.

     At some point, however, a theme was noticed.

<So is this your way of saying which clothes you like best on me?>

     Yoosung stared at the message one day, thoroughly confused.

<??>

<All your clothes look nice on you, honey…what do you mean?>

    He was walking down the pattern section at the craft store when the text vibrated his phone.

<All the threadwork, they’re stars, right? I thought you were marking your favorites or…>

<…are you marking my clothes as yours? Lol>

     Heat filled his cheeks—had he been tagging her belongings with his namesake out of a subconscious desire to claim her somehow? Like some elaborate juvenile vandal?

     He immediately picked up a few stitch pattern tutorials to narrow down a suitable emblem, pausing only to snicker at the captioned image of the falling stars along the previously frayed elastic band of thigh high stockings:

[ Is this ‘Property of Yoosung’ too? Because I agree, I think you can pull it off well…]

     In the following weeks, tiny silver crescent moons joined the secret stars as a completed motif –because one would never truly be without the other.

     Yoosung only wished he had been careful enough to avoid being banned from any further needlework until after his exams were completed…due to the amount of pinpricks he’d suffered while amending his alterations.


End file.
